


Best Laid Plans

by Cobrilee



Series: A Very Sterek Christmas [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Christmas Fluff, M/M, Trigger warning-abandoned children, married sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 09:16:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5451425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cobrilee/pseuds/Cobrilee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Derek had a plan. They knew exactly what they wanted. Fate had other plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Laid Plans

**Author's Note:**

> So this one isn't quite as fluffy, it's a little more emotional and a touch on the angsty side, but it really fit with the theme and I think it has enough fluff and happiness to qualify. Also, there will be a sequel to this part within the series-hopefully it will be the next one, but it depends on if my muse cooperates tonight.

Stiles surveyed the Christmas set-up anxiously, making sure that it looked perfect. The tree was beautifully decorated and lit with small white lights (he’d wanted multi-colored, but Derek thought the white lights were classic and more beautiful in their simplicity, so he’d given in), with piles and piles of presents stacked underneath and all around. One entire corner of the first floor was designated the “Christmas space”, actually, and it was overflowing with gifts. Four homemade stockings hung from the mantle over the fireplace, and the flickering firelight danced over every reflective surface in the room.

“Stiles.” Derek’s softly-whispered chastisement made him flinch. “The girls are going to be up in just a few hours. Come to bed.”

He couldn’t help it; this had to be _perfect_. It just _had_ to be.

Derek understood; the way he came up behind Stiles and wrapped his arms around his waist and rested his chin on his husband’s shoulder conveyed that. “I want this to be their best Christmas ever.”

“It will be,” Derek promised him, nuzzling his lips into the curve between Stiles’ throat and shoulder. “It wouldn’t take much to begin with, but you know they worship you. The fact that you went to this much effort will just make them love you even more.”

“They’ve just had crappy Christmases for so long, I want them to wake up and get to experience that _magic_ for once, you know?” Stiles sighed, leaning back into Derek’s embrace. 

His need for their daughters to get to have that Christmas joy had taken on a life of its own, he knew, but he still saw them the way he had that first day, the day he’d sworn the two girls he was going to meet were _not_ going to be part of his family. He was playing by the adoption agency’s rules to be able to get the baby boy he and Derek had decided they wanted. The agent had insisted he and Derek had to meet these two girls, she swore they were perfect for the two of them, and though Stiles _knew_ there was no way they were going to adopt two sisters instead of the one boy they were so excited to welcome into their family, he’d agreed with Derek that they at least needed to act like they were willing to listen to her.

Then the girls had walked in, and within sixty seconds he knew everything he’d planned was about to go out the window.

_“I know you wanted a boy, and you didn’t want siblings. But these two girls are beautiful, inside and out. They’ve been here for awhile because no one wants to take on more than one child, but they’re such good kids. I really think you’ll fall in love with them. When you came in, I took one look at you and_ knew _you were the right family.”_

_Stiles cast an annoyed glance at Derek, who shot him a look meant to say, “calm down, she’s just doing her job”. Stiles didn’t care. She was pushing way too hard, and it seemed like everything they’d told her was going in one ear and out the other. He was tempted to complain and get another agent, but he and Derek had already been through the ringer with adoption agencies. Derek’s shady history and lack of employment hadn’t made him an ideal candidate, despite being able to afford their astronomical adoption fees a hundred times over, and Stiles wasn’t willing to jeopardize this opportunity.._

_“The nine-year-old is Danica, the seven-year-old is Stella.”_

_Derek muffled a snort, and Stiles couldn’t help but feel his lips curve up. There was no way they were going to end up with kids who sounded as if they’d been, egomaniacally, named for them. Besides, they’d wanted a baby, or at least a toddler. Seven and nine were much older than what they had planned for._

_The agent-Lori? Lanie?-led them into a room clearly designed for young children, attempting to set everyone at ease in a family-friendly environment. Stiles just felt more twitchy and awkward. Yeah, they wanted a kid, but he hadn’t given much thought to surrounding himself in kid-like paraphernalia. It was definitely an eye-opener. He was going to have to prepare a lot more if they ever found a child to fit their family._

_Derek’s hand found his, their fingers sliding together as he clutched at Stiles anxiously. Stiles squeezed back, knowing this was extremely hard for his husband. For as much as he growled and acted like he was a loner, Stiles had learned long ago that there was nothing Derek wanted more than to have a large family again._

_It had actually taken Stiles longer to come to terms with the idea of adoption, because he wasn’t sure he could be a good father. Derek, despite all appearances to the contrary, was the one who was good with kids and wanted them around. Lydia’s and Scott’s little ones clung to him like he was the only person on earth who mattered. Watching that was what had convinced Stiles they needed children of their own. Derek shouldn’t be deprived of the opportunity to be a father just because Stiles was afraid he wouldn’t measure up._

_Then came the moment when the door opened, and both Stiles and Derek tensed up. Stiles almost winced when Derek’s grip on his hand went from tight to bone-crushing, but he forgot to scold the wolf when two little heads popped into the room. The black-haired girl’s eyes were wide, wary, mistrustful, but the elfin grin on the sister with the long, light-brown hair stole his heart immediately._

_It was eerie; they were essentially looking at tiny, female mirror images of themselves, and Stiles knew that Derek saw it too. The older one, Danica, hovered in the doorway while Stella bounded into the room and threw herself into Stiles’ lap, making him start in surprise. He’d had no idea what to expect from a first meeting, but this wasn’t even close to being it._

_Stella proved from the start that she was her father’s daughter when she let loose a stream of chatter. “You’re ours, right? You have to be ours. We look like a family, we look like_ your _kids, we_ have _to be your kids. Right? You want us?”_

_Stiles had flashed a panicked look at Derek, his eyes wide and startled, but Derek wasn’t looking at him. He was looking first at Stella, then at Danica, who had taken one small step into the room and continued to watch them cautiously. He was smiling, his eyes gleaming suspiciously, and when he finally turned that gaze of wonder at Stiles, Stiles gave him a helpless look in response and all Derek could do was murmur, “I know.”_

It hadn’t happened immediately, of course. They couldn’t just pick out children as if they were puppies, sign a few papers, and head home. There had been more meetings, more opportunities for them to spend time together and make sure it would be the best fit. They’d had to go through counseling, and they had needed time to prepare the house. Derek had already been dabbling with the idea of rebuilding the burned-out shell that was his family’s home, but that day when they came home he started calling contractors, suppliers, anyone he could think of to get the project truly under way. They’d initially planned on having a pseudo-nursery in the same main area of the loft as their sleeping area, at least for the time being, but Derek had immediately realized they couldn’t bring two older children into that kind of living arrangement. Stiles was fully on board with renovating the old Hale house; he’d figured Derek would want them to move there at some point anyway.

On the day they’d brought the girls into their new home for the first time, the looks of wonder, of joy, on their faces had nearly brought Stiles to tears. They’d had difficult early lives; Stella had rattled on easily about how their mommy was always sick- _“Drugs,” Lori/Lanie had supplied under her breath_ -and their daddy had stopped letting them see her, and anyway, they had lots of new mommies all the time, until one of them decided she didn’t want kids and their daddy had left them at a church.

Stiles and Derek had shared private, aching moments of grief once they were home from those meetings, realizing with horror that Stella had so easily adapted to the nightmare life she’d grown up in, and recalling painfully how Danica’s eyes had shuttered every time Stella told another story about one of their “new mommies”. 

The girls had never had much. Their father had kept them clothed and fed, and that was about it, from what they could tell. Now, Stiles was fiercely determined to make sure they had a Christmas that would make up for every bit of deprivation they’d ever experienced. They’d only been a family for three months-well, three months of being united, anyway-but for Stiles it felt like they’d always been together. It was hard to remember a time before the girls had brightened their lives. He wanted to give back to them the way they’d given to him.

Derek placed a calming hand over his heart until the rapid _thudthudthudthud_ eased into a rhythmic, easy beat, and Stiles inhaled deeply. He’d done all he could, and now it was time to rest. “Let’s go to bed, Der,” he whispered, and Derek turned him around in his arms, nipping lightly at his lips.

“It’s about damn time,” he replied softly, chuckling. “I want to unwrap my present.”

Stiles felt his blood heating, but he pulled back and pretended to scold his husband. “It’s not Christmas yet.”

Derek snorted. “In case you forgot to look at the clock, it was Christmas three hours ago.”

Glancing up at the large railroad station-style clock hanging from the partial wall between the living and dining rooms, Stiles saw that it was, in fact, 3:02 am. Yawning, he nuzzled into Derek’s arms. “I think I might be too beat for tonight. But tomorrow night? We’re sending the girls to bed early.”

Derek grinned, a slow, spreading thing that warmed Stiles from his toes to the top of his head. “I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that,” he sighed, and Stiles frowned in confusion.

“That we’re sending them to bed early?”

“No, ‘the girls’. _Our_ girls. Our family.”

Stiles nodded, his throat closing with emotion. Their family. It had been so long in coming, but Stiles wouldn’t trade a single moment of the pain, frustration, or anxiety that it had taken to get them there. “I love you, Der.”

Derek tightened his embrace and Stiles leaned his head against the wolf’s chest, taking comfort in the steady rise and fall of it underneath his cheek. “I love you too, Stiles. Merry Christmas.”


End file.
